Snow and the Best Laid Schemes of Mice and Men

I took this after sitting on the tarmac for two hours

Most of us keep our composure just fine--as long as things are going just fine. We plan things out and have this odd expectation that the million-and-one variables (and people) out there will simply comply, fall in line with out plans, do as we have ordained. You know, "My will, not thine, O Lord, however foolish it be." We do this--we?--I do this almost everyday. Even when my declared theology shouts otherwise in my ear.

I was musing on this from sunny Central Valley Fresno California this past weekend where I was keynote at the Christian Writers Seminar hosted by Fresno Pacific University. Between my two plenary addresses, a TV interview on the importance of teaching history to our children, two Sunday morning messages on 7 Biblical Reasons Every Christian Ought to be a History Geek, and an evening exhortation on Psalm 46--I kept watching the weather in Snowmageddon Puget Sound. My wife was reporting to me about the 18" of snow that had dumped on our farm, how pretty it looked, but how much more work it was to keep all the animals fed, watered, and warm. She had not even tried to drive down our steep driveway onto the icy roads. Schools were all closed, as were many roads. Trees snapped under the weight of the snow and ice. Power lines were down throughout the region. Law enforcement urged people to stay home, do not drive unless it is an emergency.

As I boarded the Alaska flight (bumped up to first class), the pilot told us that SeaTac Airport was covered in compact snow and ice and more snow was falling. The flight attendant mouthed to us to be prepared to land in Portland since she thought there was no way he would try to land in the middle of a winter storm. Who would do that? He did, expertly, one of the smoothest landings ever. Then we sat on the plane for two hours, just sat, waiting for a gate to open. And sat some more. As it would turn out, that was the simplest part of the next twenty hours for me.

Ordinarily the shuttle from the park and ride near our little farm to the airport took one hour. This was not ordinarily. The shuttle never showed up. So I took public transport to Tacoma, but many routes were closed, so had to detour to get the connection that would link to bus 100, the Narrows Bridge, and homeward. Bus 100 never showed up. I was dressed for seventy degree CA weather. It was dark and cold. My finger was shaking so much I was having trouble texting. And my phone had 6% battery. Then 5%. Then 4%. There were no Lyft cabs moving anywhere. Finally spent the night on my son and daughter-in-laws couch; I'm several inches longer than that couch.

In the morning, my daughter-in-law dropped me at the bus 100 stop again. I waited, in the cold, chatting with an older woman who was waiting in the cold for the same bus across the Narrows to the Peninsula and home. It never came, again. I checked my Lyft app. There were only three brave drivers crawling the city streets. But I had a 50% discount special on weekday Lyft rides. So off we went.

Meanwhile, my adult son was plowing our steep downhill driveway so he could take my tractor down the road and plow his steep uphill driveway and get his truck out and pick me up. The valve stem on one of the tractor tires sheered off. Another part broke in the cold. I'm drinking London Fog Lattes at Cutter's Point Coffee in Gig Harbor, wondering if I was ever going to get home. My wife reported that in all the flurry to dig out of the snow, a gate was left open and the cows were out belly deep romping in the white stuff, two dogs nipping at their heels. Somehow along the way I had forgotten to eat anything.

Robbie Burns was right. The best laid schemes of mice and men often do go awry. The writer of Proverbs put it better still: "The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps" (16:9). Looking back, there were so many components of this adventure over which I had no control. The plane, the weather, the shuttle, the transit cancellations. I was powerless to change any of these things. But my God is sovereign and all powerful, and he presided over all, the minutest detail--sparrows falling, hair falling from ones head--precise orchestration of all things for his ultimate glory and his expansive kindness to his children. What a marvel.

After confessing my sins of frustration, I now meditate with Horatius Bonar on the mysterious and wonderful ways of our Sovereign Lord.

1. Thy way, not mine, O Lord,
   However dark (or cold, or snowy, or disrupted) it be;
   Lead me by Thine own hand,
   Choose out the path for me.
2. Smooth let it be or rough,
   It will be still the best;
   Winding or straight, it leads
   Right onward to Thy rest.
3. I dare not choose my lot;
   I would not, if I might;
   Choose Thou for me, my God,
   So shall I walk aright.
4. Take Thou my cup, and it
   With joy or sorrow fill,
   As best to Thee may seem;
   Choose Thou my good and ill.
5. Choose Thou for me my friends,
   My sickness or my health;
   Choose Thou my cares for me,
   My poverty or wealth.
6. The kingdom that I seek
   Is Thine: so let the way
   That leads to it be Thine,
   Else I must surely stray.
7. Not mine, not mine the choice
   In things or great or small;
   Be Thou my guide, my strength
   My wisdom, and my all.
8. (Horatius Bonar, 1857)